


Families and Exceptions

by hystericalselcouth



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Family, Heavy Angst, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 00:49:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3999616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hystericalselcouth/pseuds/hystericalselcouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anger made much of that which was Sirius Black. He knew that and he hated it. This truth did hurt on most days, but on days like this when he loses control and gives in, he hates himself even more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Families and Exceptions

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything, I make no profits.
> 
>  
> 
> I hope Sirius here doesn't seem too OOC, I hope I've stuck to whatever little I could make of canon Sirius.

Sirius sniffed when his nose began to burn and his face grew hot with unshed tears. But, no, he would not cry, he was better than that. He would not give in and let them revel in his discomfort. The tiny bit of his head which told him that ‘this time, it’s different’, was wholly ignored and his anger and rage precipitated in control, as it always did. Yes, it was different, because he was angry at Severus Snape and not someone with any of the same blood as him. Although, Severus Snape might have some of the same blood as him, what-with families and such. However, as he paced the bathroom in utter silence, tears noiselessly rolling down his cheeks and lips parted so very slightly to let air enter his lungs, he knew that his predicament was his fault. He should never have given in to his ego, his temper, the sudden urge to defy whatever cruel power it was that the Slytherin reminded him of. While he knew that he would direct his anger towards himself for however long this was to be, that small part of him now said, ‘In the end, you can always be angry at Severus Snape.’

* * *

 

Anger made much of that which was Sirius Black. He knew that and he hated it. This truth did hurt on most days, but on days like this when he loses control and gives in, he hates himself even more.

After the anger comes the prolonged frustration.

It’s when he’s frustrated that an immediate need to rectify kicks in. On most days, the frustration repels the rectification, but this isn’t ‘most days’. On this day, in the small hours of the morning, the required rectification is seen in the mirror before him. 

‘No,’ he tells himself,’ we’ll see when Rem wakes up.’

Even before he can finish the sentence he feels the hatred rush up again, but he just about holds the fort.

* * *

 

 

He knows he can’t just go and sit with James Potter and Peter Pettigrew in the Hospital Wing. Not after what he had done and not after the look James had given him when the latter deposited the pale and unconscious Remus Lupin on one of Madame Pomfrey’s soft hospital beds. He wanted to see how Remus was doing, but the mental image of Potter and Pettigrew slumped on chair next to Remus’ bed coaxed him into believing that Remus was better off without him.

He knew shouldn’t be there. Remus didn’t deserve it. This time, all of Sirius agreed that he didn’t deserve to be there, he didn’t deserve to be in any sort of family. He had thought, indeed, he had believed that he would live through thick and thin with this family. They didn’t deserve him, and neither did he deserve a place in their care, love and togetherness in that hospital wing.

* * *

 

 

He catches sight of Potter and Pettigrew entering the Griffindor Common Room on his way back from an untouched supper in the evening. He quickly lengthens the distance between him and the two boys. They were tired, sleepy and dishevelled. Suddenly, Sirius felt jealousy creep up in him and he hated himself for it. He climbed up nervously to his room, expecting to find himself caught in an awkward place with the two of the three friends he had betrayed. That way, he imagined, he would have some form of conversation with them, even if it had to be so harsh and cruel. With that ghost of optimism, he pushed open the door to find his single four-poster hidden in the darkness of the moonless night.

There in the desolate enclosure, he dropped his bag on the floor and sat on his bed, ready to welcome waves of confusion and uncertainty. When he woke up the next morning, all he felt was the mist that was the past he had had in the space around him vanish into the emptiness of the room and a lost feeling which seemed to weigh his feet down to the ground.

* * *

 

The following night saw him dazedly walk into the room and collapse and curl up on his bed. The only recollection he had had of the day was the sight of an unkempt Remus Lupin some distance away inhaling his breakfast at the Gryffindor table.

* * *

 

To Sirius, it was the silence that looped him into this cycle of waking, existing and sleeping. The silence of James’s unspoken, harsh words of hatred, the silence of Peter’s absent, feeble attempts at consolation, the silence of Remus’ logical argument dotted with pain and hurt. He would have rather heard all that than listen to the silence. This was unlike the experiences in a room alone at Grimmauld Place, where he would have done anything for a break from all the words that engulfed him.

* * *

 

Dumbledore knew that the lack of reprimand was unjust, but he also knew that the punishment doled out to Sirius was the harshest the boy could ever be given. He saw the betrayal in Severus Snape’s eyes, but anything more would break the boy. Observable punishment would mean trouble for the Black at home, so, Dumbledore avoided it because he could. It was not fair, none of this was fair to any of the children involved, not to Severus Snape, Sirius Black nor Remus Lupin. Family had taught him that.

* * *

 

 

School would not be pitiful just because Sirius Black had made a mistake. There was still work to do, pranks to play, normalcy to keep. Normalcy was foremost. He could not afford to let anyone know, he couldn’t let either of his families make any sort of fuss. So, the homework was done (shabbily), the pranks were executed (flawlessly) and the jibes were made (arrogantly). After what seemed an age, he sat together with the three at meal times, they roamed the school grounds together and they served detentions again. The words and the noise resurfaced and they were James, Remus, Peter and Sirius again.

When the full-moon came, he stayed behind for only a moment in hesitance before following the rest into the shrieking shack. In that moment, he found himself asking whether he deserved to be there, if he really deserved family, but in the white light cast upon him in the hollowness of the cold night, he knew that sometimes, there could be exceptions.


End file.
